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Morning

No matter the vibrant or rain soaked things
happening outside my window
or between the space
where floor
doesn't quite
meet door,
I linger in my own soft breeze.

As I be breezing,
I be fluttering.
My lips be muttering.
My poetry stuttering
desires I keep
just for you

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

Nice lightsome piece. I loved the first stanza best
But when I came to the second I was puzzled with your use of
"be" instead of "is". It really sounds archaic in such a modern piece.
But maybe that's only me
I've enjoyed the read anyway..

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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